What Someone Knew
by shedoc
Summary: All about what Someone Knew


All his life, Ron had wanted a Someone. Someone that was his, and knew they were his, even if Ron had to share them with other people. He and his Someone would know whom they belonged to, and that would make the sharing easier. They would know that at the end of the day, they would be together, and the rest of the world could just go away.

He knew that sounded selfish, especially considering he had a great big family that loved him, a warm home that was safe and full of love, and a life that may not have been full of all the most expensive and brand new things in the world, but one that was pretty rich none-the-less in everything that truly mattered.

Still, that didn't stop him from wanting his very own Someone.

He didn't think about his Someone often, and he certainly never spoke of them, not even to his mother, whom he'd told just about every humiliating secret he had, but when he did think of his Someone the thoughts tended to take over whatever he was doing.

At the moment, for example, he was supposed to be doing homework. There was a Hogsmeade trip tomorrow and he wanted to have the whole day free, an intention that led him to wishing that the day was free to spend with his Someone, which in turn led to thinking about who his Someone was; or rather the qualities his Someone would have.

They had to be able to see the funny side of things, because life was pretty dark and gloomy at the moment, what with You-Know-Who around and the school divided into two warring camps. His Someone would have to be able to laugh with him over the little things and appreciate the moment, the now.

His Someone would have to be able to live with his habits. He wasn't the world's best scholar by far, he tended to be disorganised and untidy and put things off till the last minute. His Someone would have to be able to balance those habits against their own, and not be put off when Ron had to pull an all nighter to get his work finished on time.

His Someone would need to be interested in the same things he was. They didn't have to hold the same views - in fact differences of opinion could be just as interesting as agreement and peace. That didn't mean he wanted to fight the whole time - no one liked living in constant strife. In the end it came down to his Someone having a sense of play when it came to words. Not quite argument for the sake of it, more along the lines of flirting, but with a bit of spice. Verbal battle could be as interesting as the ones Ron held on his chessboard, as long as both sides agreed that when the battle was over peace would reign.

Not too much peace, though. Ron liked a bit of spontaneity in his life, and his Someone would need a sense of mischief and discovery. He supposed that it came down to having Someone who would enjoy laziness or activity as it came to them, with the added relish of unpredictability. He would like his Someone to be able to appreciate silence as much as noise, and stillness as much as motion.

Ron wanted Someone that would put him first, who would want to make him happy and do that with little gestures each day. At the same time, he wanted Someone to make happy with little gestures of his own each day. His parents were like that, a true partnership, each one doing for the other, seeing to their comfort and happiness in little ways. Ron's Someone would not only do that but would distinguish him from the rest of his family. He wouldn't be a little brother or a son, not even a nephew or grandchild. He'd be Ron and the rest of the family would be sort of in the background for his Someone.

"Ron, are you even paying attention?" Hermione's voice broke into his musings; "You'll never get this finished on time if you don't concentrate."

A glance to the left showed that Harry was grinning at him in sympathy, and Ron shot a grin back. His Someone would do that too, talk to him with a look or a touch…

Ron dropped his quill and sat up a bit. Harry spoke to him with a look or a touch; they did it in class all the time, and right from first year too! Harry had met Ron before he'd gotten to know the Weasley's, but even once he'd met the whole family it was Ron he spent his time with, and Ron that he sought out when the house was full and noisy. Harry was always dropping things into Ron's bag or drawers, collecting his homework or roaming possessions and returning them. He let Ron borrow his notes and his things without second thought. Ron hated it when Harry was upset and always tried to cheer him up. In fact Ron spent as much time doing little things for Harry as Harry did for him. Between the two of them they'd somehow drifted into a comfortable routine that acted like a touchstone in their lives. On the days when classes were too hectic for actual social contact, the fact that Harry had slipped a book or a reminding note into Ron's bag, and that Ron had done the same, was enough to make Ron feel like Someone cared for him…

Harry could loaf or charge about as well as the next person, and they'd pulled their share of pranks in their time. Not everything had been about defeating the Dark forces, and the fact that Harry could just kick back and 'talk rubbish' as Hermione put it had been a great relief to Ron. The best way for Ron to blow off steam was to talk to Harry. Hermione kept trying to be logical; Harry came up with the most outrageous questions and solutions that he kept Ron from getting bogged down in his own troubles. They both loved Quidditch but got into the biggest rows over the merits of different teams. Harry was not a Cannons supporter, and when Ron's team lost they could pick the game apart and debate the merits of each play. His Someone turned out to be a better verbal fencer than he was a chess player, but Ron didn't mind.

"Ron!" Hermione's voice once more broke into his thoughts, "Stop grinning at nothing and get on!"

Ron shot his friend an annoyed glance and retrieved his quill, reading over the last sentence and scribbling a few more lines. He hadn't been staring at Nothing; he'd been staring at Someone.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Harry Knew all sorts of things that no one had ever had to tell him. He Knew that his parents loved him. He Knew that wherever his Godfather was, Snuffles was watching over him. He Knew that there were people around him who cared for him, and that he cared for in return. He Knew that life was never guaranteed, and things could change in a heartbeat.

He Knew that if Hermione died he'd be devastated.

He Knew if Ron died so would he.

He Knew that Ron was thinking deeply right now, and privately wondered what was causing that expression of wistful longing on his best friends face. He'd give anything to know what caused it, because if he Knew, he'd be able to ease it.

He also Knew that Hermione was about to tell their best friend off for wool-gathering instead of doing the homework that Ron himself had announced he wanted to finish. Harry was glad to hear it, because it meant he didn't have to nag Ron into that very action, and it gave him a chance to clear his own workload. He Knew that this trip to Hogsmeade was important.

"Ron, are you even paying attention?" Hermione's voice broke into his musings; "You'll never get this finished on time if you don't concentrate."

Harry shot him a sympathetic look as the redhead was jolted from his thoughts and distracted Hermione with a question about the transfiguration text they were working from. He debated lightly with her over a point that he knew she'd win, and then went back to his own essay, glancing out of the corner of his eye to see that Ron was still staring into space, bolt upright and with a grin and an arrested expression on his face. Something had just occurred to his friend, but Harry Knew that Ron would share it when he was ready.

They worked in silence for a few more minutes and then Harry capped his inkbottle, finished with the essay. He pulled his textbook into his lap, and snuck another look at Ron. The redhead was still staring into space, his grin getting wider. Happy that his friend was happy, Harry garnered Hermione's attention with another question and she lectured him for a few minutes or so before glancing at Ron again. Harry Knew she checked on them both regularly, like a mother monitoring her children. He didn't mind the attention.

"Ron!" Hermione's voice once more broke into the quiet, "Stop grinning and staring at nothing and get on!"

This earned her an annoyed look from Ron and a glance to Harry, who offered his best barely there smile and a wink that Hermione couldn't see, which he Knew would cheer Ron up. Sure enough, Ron's grin returned and he bent over his work. Content, Harry read through his book, making notes in the margins and generally cherishing the memory of this time because he Knew that in the future he'd need the memory of this peace and friendship.

"Ron," Hermione said as they were packing up, "Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow?"

Ron gave their best friend his best blank look and Harry braced himself for a row. Hermione had yet to figure out that Ron wore his obtuseness like a cloak. Harry Knew he was not stupid, nor was he slow, but by pretending to be he could either avoid whatever uncomfortable topic or action was under discussion, or have it explained to him in a way that he would be able to twist about into humour. People oftne gave up on explaining things to Ron, which Harry Knew was what he wanted. It let him sit back and assess the options before him, like he did in chess.

"I thought we were already going, all three of us!" Ron said in his best obtuse manner, shooting a look at Harry that clearly said 'help me out'. Harry put his book on the table and marshalled his thoughts, trying to decide if he should back out gracefully and let them be happy together, or selfishly spend time with them instead. Hermione took that decision out of his hands.

"I'm asking you on a date, Ron!" she hissed leaning forward and annoyance crossed Ron's face.

"And I'm trying to turn you down, but you won't take a hint!" Ron hissed back, "I love you like a sister, Hermione, I don't want to date you!"

"Well who do you want to date then!" Hermione jumped up, and waved her hand at Harry, who was still sitting silently, "Harry?"

He couldn't contain his flinch, and his best friends saw it.

"Oh Harry, I'm sorry," Hermione began but was cut off by Ron.

"Yes."

The statement was bald and there was no mistaking what he meant. Harry's heart raced a mile a minute as he stared at the redhead, and then he grabbed for Hermione, hauling her into his lap so she couldn't just run upstairs. He Knew that if he let her go now, she'd drift away from them, not out of spite or disgust, but because she'd be embarrassed. He also Knew that Ron was finally ready to take Harry up on his silent offer of a lifetime together, something that Harry had finally realised he'd been making since fourth year.

"Don't go," Harry ordered, "Hear him out."

"I want to do a lot more than date him, Hermione, because I love him, not like a brother," Ron's voice was low but steady and Hermione's body tensed for a long moment before she collapsed into Harry's, and he gathered her close, promising Ron with a look before turning his attention to the woman on his lap.

"I'll go to Hogsmeade with Ginny," Hermione offered after a short silence, and Ron shook his head, but let Harry speak for them.

"We'd like to go with you," he smiled at the brown eyes staring into his, "You're our sister of the heart, and spending time with you is nice."

He Knew he'd said the right thing when she seemed to get lighter in his lap and nodded. She kissed his forehead and got up, kissing Ron goodnight too. Harry let her go, secure in the knowledge that by tomorrow she'd have sorted it all out in her heart. He had much more important things to worry about as another body landed in his lap.

Where Hermione had been warm and soft and curvy, this body was lean and smooth. He preferred this one, and hugged it closer; glad the common room was empty for this first intimate touch. A strong warm arm encircled his shoulder and tender fingers brushed his cheek. He looked up into Ron's eyes and smiled at the message he saw there.

"You're _my_ Somebody," there was a note of possessiveness in the whisper, but Harry Knew exactly what he meant.


End file.
